Irresistible Force Meets Immovable Object
by Onesimus42
Summary: An AU Modern, songfic, PWP. Based on a challenge with Batwings79. Elsie helps Charles out with his phone. Fluffy McFluff Fluff.
1. Chapter 1

_**This story is the result of a challenge between Onesimus and Batwings79. A recent story over at LJ (CE Enterprises by bsg_aussiegirl) written for their recent Battleships challenge, prompted Batwings79 to say that the only thing missing from that story was a smartphone going off with the theme from Downtown Abbey as the ringtone. This resulted in a discussion of what songs Elsie & Charles would have as their ringtones for each other. And WHAM! The plot bunnies started mating with dust bunnies and the Ringtone Challenge was born!**_

_**Criteria for the Challenge:**_

___**1)Story can be set in any time period from 1890 - present  
>2)Must use at least 3 phrasessentences from at least 2 of the songs mentioned in the PM exchange - one of which must be from the other person's list  
>3)Must include a 'scene of seduction' with M-ness a must since it is so much fun to read and write<br>4)No chapter or word restrictions (although we seem to have settled on 3 chapters needed to setup the seduction scene and close the story).**_

Charles' back was turned when she entered his office. Speaking to her over his shoulder, he said, "Good morning, Elsie. I knew you'd be by early. Anna put the information for the financial statement on that USB drive on my desk. There are some papers there too. I've organized them alphabetically and by month in reverse order. I hope that's sufficient."

"It certainly is," she answered approvingly, "if all my clients were as organized as you, I could cut my hours down significantly."

As he turned toward her with a smile, he asked, "Could I interest you in a cup of coffee or will you have your usual tea? Why are you staring?"

"Charles," she asked in surprise, "what is that you're wearing?"

"I believe that it is known as a suit," he answered stiffly.

"Not that," she said irritably, "I meant your shirt. What color is that exactly?"

His cheeks tinted faintly as he cleared his throat, "The man at the shop called it periwinkle. Why are you laughing? You're the one who told me I should wear different colors, and he said he thought it looked good on me."

"Periwinkle?" she asked through chortles, "What shop was this?"

"Barrows' Big and Tall," he answered removing his jacket and unbuttoning his waistcoat, "That does it. I knew this was silly. White shirts have sufficed for thirty years," he pulled his braces off his shoulders and tugged at his tie, "I've an extra one here for emergencies. Serves me right for listening to your fashion advice," he finished looking at her sternly.

"Emergencies? What sort of emergencies require a new shirt?" she asked incredulously.

"Usually lunch and a messy sandwich. I keep an extra tie as well," he said seriously, "One must be prepared for any eventuality."

She rolled her eyes at him, "When I said other colors I was thinking of a nice royal blue or maybe even red. Periwinkle is not a color that would ever suit a man like you. Did he convince you to buy any other colors?"

He paused at the second button of his shirt, "Turn around." When she lifted her eyebrows, he raised his own more impressive brows and repeated himself a little sterner, "Turn around."

Once she was facing the wall, he finished unbuttoning his shirt and answered so softly that she couldn't hear.

Turning her head she caught a nice glimpse of chest which caused her cheeks to tint faintly, "What was that? I didn't hear you."

"Turn around!" he growled, "Pink."

"Pink! Charles, you really must let me go shopping with you next time or at least take Anna. I doubt she'd steer you wrong since you do you pay her salary."

He grunted as he buttoned his new white shirt, "I don't think so. I'll just stick with white, goes with everything, and it's a classic."

"Like you," she agreed over her shoulder and caught another glimpse as he tucked his shirt into his trousers. _Was that tartan that she saw?_

Finished, he said, "You can turn back now."

She turned around to see that he was pulling his braces into place and had his tie draped around his neck. He began to knot his tie, "So, do you believe you can have those financial statements to me by the end of the week?"

"Certainly, I'll start on them this morning and ring you this afternoon if I need any other information."

"You'd best e-mail. I'll be out of the office. _Patmore's _is catering a big do for Carlisle Media Group on the fourteenth. I've got to meet with her today to work out the wines and spirits for the bar." Looking over at her carefully, he said, "I've even been invited to attend. I wondered if you might want to go with me."

"On Valentine's Day?"

He nodded with a small grimace, "It's a publicity event for some new romantic film, I believe. I know how you feel about all that romantic nonsense, as you put it, but I thought it might be a good chance for you to meet some new clients, netwalk. Is my tie straight?"

She laughed and crossed to him to straighten his tie, "Net_work_, Charles, it's called networking. That sounds like a good deal for you. I've heard they have tons of money and spare no expense. As your accountant and Mrs. Patmore's, I'm very pleased," she continued quietly, "I would be happy to accompany you. But if you're going to be out of the office, how will you get my e-mail?"

He was distracted for a moment by his view down her blouse and the scent of her hair. Clearing his throat, he stepped away to pick up a rectangular object from his desk, "Old reliable finally died. The fellow at the shop laughed when Anna tried to get it repaired. She bought this contraption for me. She's put my schedule on it and set it up for e-mails."

Elsie looked at it admiringly, "This is the 4S. Your secretary takes good care of you. She certainly got you top of the line. Does this mean I can text you now?"

He shook his head as he fastened his cufflinks, "I prefer e-mails, with them there's no noise."

"Charles," she admonished," you should keep this in your trousers' pocket so you can feel the vibration when it's in silent mode. Then you could turn off the ringer."

He blushed and rubbed the top of his ear, "No; I'd really rather not."

At her uplifted eyebrows his blush deepened, but he continued, "The vibrate function is rather vigorous."

Elsie looked down so that he couldn't see her smile and tried to change the subject, "Have you set up different ringtones for some of the people who call you frequently yet?"

"I don't really care for any of the ones on the phone, and I don't fancy buying them individually, seems like a waste of money to me," he said as he buttoned his waistcoat.

"You can make them from your own collection in ITunes. You do have some songs in ITunes, don't you?"

"Of course I do, I'm not completely helpless! But the online manual didn't say anything about making ringtones," he said a little confused.

"You read the whole manual?"

"I believe in being very thorough and doing things correctly. You know that."

She nodded, that certainly described him perfectly, "It's very easy really. All you have to do is create an AAC version and…" she trailed off at his blank look and laughed, "I'll help you if you like, but now I need to get upstairs to work. You're not my only client, you know."

"I know," he smiled, "but I am your first client, very handy having my accountant just upstairs."

"Just as handy as having my wine merchant as my downstairs neighbor, I suppose," she said eyes drawn to his smile briefly.

"Tonight?"

"Beg pardon?" she asked.

"Would you like to come over to my flat tonight to make ringtones? I could make pasta with that special sauce that you like, and of course, I always promise a good wine."

Her eyes darted toward the floor and she took a half-step back, "Actually, I wanted to ask if you could help me find a wine for this evening. I have an old friend visiting from out of town."

"Ahh," he said stepping back himself and picking up his jacket, "Of course, I'd be happy to be of assistance," leading her toward the door to the show room, "What does she like?"

"He," she corrected, "and I doubt he's very picky. Whatever you think would be best."

"You won't be going out to dinner?" he paused to ask as he pulled his cuffs down.

"No," she replied carefully, "I thought we could have some privacy to catch up with each other."

"He's from Edinburgh?"

She smiled, "We worked together before I decided to strike out on my own here in York."

"Well, I for one am very glad you chose to cross the border five years ago," he said meeting her eyes very seriously for a long moment.

After asking a few questions about the meal she had planned, he helped her choose her wine, waving away her payment, "Consider it a perk of being my accountant. Will he be staying long? That is, I was wondering when you'd be free to help with my phone."

"I'm not really sure," she answered looking down quickly again.

"Perhaps it would be best if we just planned on breakfast," he suggested, "Then I wouldn't impose on any of your evenings. Omelets are my other specialty, but unfortunately no wine."

She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment before answering, "Yes; that would work for me. 8 o'clock?"

"Let's say 7:30 or maybe even 7 o'clock. We'd not want to be late for work," he said smiling, "It's a bit cool outside. Why don't you take the back stairs instead of going out and up the front?"

She nodded at his thoughtfulness with a small smile, "I'll see you tomorrow at 7 o'clock then."

Once she'd gone to her office, he smiled grimly, congratulating himself. He must not be staying with her or she wouldn't have agreed to breakfast, and it would take her a quarter of an hour to get from her flat to his, and surely at least a half hour or maybe more to get ready. At least he could be sure that her 'friend' wouldn't be having a late morning with his accountant.

He turned to his secretary, "Make sure I don't have any early appointments tomorrow, Anna."

"Of course sir," she smiled, "Ms. Hughes is dining with someone else tonight sir? I had always thought that you make a lovely couple."

He looked at her sternly, "Mind your own business. If I want your advice, I'll ask for it. Besides I'm too set in my ways for someone like her."

"Well, sir, it seems to me that she seems willing to put up with some of those ways, and I've seen a few of those ways change since she came here."

"Get back to work young lady before I decide I need a new secretary," he said gruffly but with a half smile on his face.

_E__C__H_

Charles glanced grimly at his large grandfather clock. He could hear the ticking but would have sworn that the hands had not moved since he last glanced at it what felt like ten minutes ago, but the hands told him that it had been just one. It was now 8:33 pm, and his thoughts were with his accountant. He wondered if she was having a good time and sincerely hoped that she was not. Whoever this 'old friend' was, Charles hated him vigorously. He entertained himself for a few moments with some of the disasters that could befall her friend. Maybe he would choke on a bit of bread or have an allergic reaction and swell up like a balloon. Better still, maybe he would do something incredibly stupid like tweak Elsie about her frugality. She hated it when people stereotyped her as being cheap just because she was Scottish. If he was very fortunate, maybe her 'old friend' would belch in the middle of the meal. Surely that would put Elsie off.

Standing in disgust at himself for his thoughts, he carried his plate and silverware to the kitchen sink. He scraped the last bits of his meal into the disposal and flipped the switch. Then he carefully washed his plate and the pans, before stacking them neatly in the cupboard. Finishing quickly, he decided that he might as well do the prep work for their breakfast tomorrow to save himself a bit of time. He could slice the vegetables at least. He had decided on toast, omelets, and grilled tomatoes. Pulling out the tomato, he sliced it first before placing it in a plastic container in the fridge. Then he brushed off the mushrooms while he thought about the meal. He knew Elsie liked mushrooms but would she want the peppers he'd bought in her omelet? Grinning suddenly, he wiped his hands on the towel. He'd just have to ask her.

Finding his phone, he scrolled through to the H's quickly and pressed the number with some satisfaction.

_E__C__H_

Elsie glanced toward her foyer in irritation at the sound of the harsh rock and roll beat. She rose from the settee and crossed quickly to answer her phone. Joe watched her curiously and nonchalantly listened to her side of the conversation.

"Hello Charles"

"Yes; I knew it was you. There's this wonderful invention called 'caller ID'. Most phones have it."

"You called to ask me that?"

"Well, I think I'd rather just have the mushrooms and maybe a little cheese, if you don't mind. I'm not too keen on peppers that early."

She stepped into her kitchen to finish the conversation, "You know that I prefer tea, but honestly, I'll take my caffeine any way that I can get it."

Laughing, she said, "Well, I wouldn't go quite that far."

"The best way to prepare would be to pick out a few of your favorite songs. Ones that remind you of some of the people you know, and that you won't mind hearing frequently."

"I really need to get back to my guest. We still have some catching up to do."

"Yes; 7 o'clock. I'll be there."

Returning to sit beside Joe on the settee, Elsie apologized, "I'm sorry. I've promised to do a favor for a friend, and he had a few questions."

"No apologies are necessary," Joe reassured her, "Wild Thing?"

She blushed slightly, "Yes; it amuses me a little to be the stuffy accountant and have that as my ringtone."

He smiled at her and said softly, "Wild thing, you make my heart sing. You make everything groovy. Wild thing, I think I love you, but I want to know for sure.—That brings back some memories."

Playing with the pattern on the settee, she said, "Yes; for me too."

"Elsie, I—"

Her phone rang again, and it definitely rang, no music this time. He looked at her in surprised confusion when she rose to answer the phone.

"Hello Anna."

"Yes; it was periwinkle," she laughed, "Under no circumstances should you allow him to shop alone again. I'll call you back another time, though. I have a guest, and we've already been interrupted once."

When she returned to the sitting area, Joe had moved to the armchair. "Is 'Wild Thing' your ringtone for just one person?"

She nodded.

"The person who shouldn't be allowed to shop on his own?" he asked.

She nodded again.

"And the person you're meeting at 7 o'clock tomorrow?"

Looking at him sadly, she nodded one last time.

Joe rose, "Well, I suppose that's my answer then. It was nice catching up with you, Elsie dear, but it seems my chance has passed."

"Joe," she began quietly, "you'll always be very special to me, but…"

"But I don't make your heart sing," he finished for her.

"No, no, you don't," she smiled at him in relief for his understanding, "In many ways, I wish that you did."

"I wish that I did too, Elsie dear," he smiled sadly and walked out the door, shutting it quietly behind him.

_**Reviews are always welcome. I must say that this is the first time I have ever even conceived of a 'modern AU' and/or songfic so I'm a bit nervous.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**The required 'M-ness'. This is obviously still AU and a songfic. Hopefully, they're at least a little bit in character.**_

Charles withdrew his watch from his waistcoat pocket to check the time once again; 6:54 am. He sighed and held the watch to his ear to be sure that it was still ticking. Drumming his fingers on the countertop, he ran through a mental checklist. His coffee was finished, and there was hot water for tea. Should he have gone out last night for a better selection? No; she had always been happy before with either the plain or the Earl Gray, and she had told him before that she hated oddly flavored teas. He had showered thoroughly and shaved carefully. His customary white shirt was on and a carefully chosen tie, the one she'd given him last year for Christmas which had quickly become his favorite. Tugging on the bottom of his waistcoat, he appreciated the way it pulled his shoulders back and made him stand a bit straighter. He knew they were out of fashion but suspected she found them attractive. Smiling, he shook his head at his own foolishness, silly to be thinking such things at his age. Continuing with his checklist, he checked his laptop to see that he was logged on and reviewed the playlist again. His heart leapt when the doorbell rang, and he glanced at the clock quickly as he walked to the door; 6:59, right on time as always.

Opening the door, his eyes widened, "Your hair is down."

"Good morning to you, too," she smiled, "Yes; I had to let it dry the last bit in the car. Are you going to let me in?"

He stepped back to let her enter and took a deep breath as she passed, "Yes; it's a very good morning. May I take your coat?"

She let her coat slide off into his hands, and he hung it carefully in his coat closet, "It looks lighter," then clarified, "Your hair, it looks lighter down. Would you like your caffeine now?"

"Thank you," she said following him into the small kitchen. Once she'd scooped the tea into the pot and filled it with hot water, they stood together waiting for it to steep. "You're dressed pretty casually yourself," she said with a smile.

He looked down, "I am?"

"Charles," she clicked her tongue at him, "No jacket, tie loose; I'm astonished."

He took a sip of his coffee, "Well, I am going to cook while you work."

She poured her tea, nodding her thanks at the cube of sugar he put in her cup, "I suppose I should get to work then." She carried her tea over to his desk and looked at his laptop, "Which songs are some of your favorites?"

He had followed her into the living area and was looking over her shoulder at the screen. Reaching around her, he moved the cursor to the playlist he'd set up the night before, "These are some of my favorites. Maybe we could listen to them while I cook and decide which ones would be best?" At her nod, he started the music.

Once they were back in the kitchen, he cleared his throat and asked cautiously, "Did you finish catching up with your friend?"

She wrapped her free arm around herself, "Yes; we did actually. We finished not long after you called."

"You did?" he asked, shoulders relaxing while he continued to watch the bread he was slicing carefully.

She looked at him curiously, "He was concerned about my choice of ringtone."

Turning around with raised eyebrows, he heard the melody he'd been listening for and smiled, "This one always makes me think of you."

Curious, she sat her tea down and stepped out of the kitchen to hear the words a little better.

_**When an irresistible force such as you  
>Meets an old immovable object like me<br>You can bet as sure as you live  
>Something's gotta give, something's gotta give,<br>Something's gotta give.**_

Her eyes widened and she turned back to the kitchen, disconcerted to find Charles directly behind her, "Charles?"

"I've always thought of you as an irresistible force, and I'm certainly an immovable object," he said watching her intently.

"Charles, I'm not sure exactly what you mean…"

His gaze was so intense that she took a step back. He caught her elbow, "Elsie; I've been trying to find a way for awhile to tell you…"

Staring at him for a long moment, she heard the next lines of the song.

_**When an irrepressible smile such as yours  
>Warms an old implacable heart such as mine<br>Don't say no because I insist.  
>Somewhere, somehow,<br>Someone's gonna be kissed**_

She stepped back toward him and put her free hand on his chest. Bending to kiss her, he wrapped his hands around her waist to draw her closer, and her hand trailed up his chest to grasp the back of his neck. He groaned as she pressed her chest tight against him and heat flared between them. Ending the kiss reluctantly, he let his forehead rest against hers, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be so pushy. I've only just told you how I feel."

"I feel like we've been skirting around our feelings for the last year," she said catching his lower lip between hers, "And you've still not really said how you feel."

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked, "I love you. I find you irresistible. Forgive me for being old-fashioned, but I want to court you."

"I don't mind old-fashioned. Old-fashioned always has hot water ready for my tea even though he detests it. Old-fashioned always finds extra work at the office so that I don't leave alone on late nights. Old-fashioned calls me when I'm late to make sure that that I'm not ill," she placed a quick kiss on his lower lip, "But I'd like to point out that we've had breakfast, lunch, or dinner together two or three times a week for the last five years, and we've gone to multiple functions together. I thought you were already courting me," she caught his lower lip between her teeth, "So maybe we could move on to the next stage in the relationship."

"Good," he sighed before capturing her lips in a bruising kiss. She grasped his tie after a few moments to loosen the knot further, and he pushed her against the wall, his knee between her thighs. His lips trailed from hers to the soft skin behind her ear.

She tilted her head to the side to allow him better access, "Charles, breakfast."

He straightened, a slightly dazed expression on his face, "Oh, yes, I'll finish…"

"No! I just thought you should probably make sure the burners were off."

Realization dawning, he smiled before stepping back into the kitchen. When he returned, she was at the computer. "I thought we could listen to that song again," she said with a smile.

"Mmmm. Yes, but we may be late for work. Do you have any appointments?"

"Not until Monday."

"Monday?" his grin widened considerably, "Today's Thursday."

"Don't get too excited. I do have work to do, just no appointments."

"But it can wait," he said seriously.

"It can wait," she agreed.

"I should call Anna," he said looking for his phone.

"She won't be in yet," handing the phone to him, "Just send her an e-mail."

He looked at the phone dubiously and attempted to do just that while she unbuttoned his waistcoat to slide it to the floor and pushed his braces off his shoulders. Stretching, she nibbled her way along his jaw and dragged the tail of his shirt from his trousers.

Grunting in frustration, he said, "That's a little distracting."

"Just a little?"

"More than a little," he said dipping his lips down to hers, "It doesn't help that this keyboard is so small. I keep hitting the wrong letters."

"Give it to me," she said, exasperated, "What do you want me to say?"

"That I'll be late because I'm planning on making my accountant moan my name repeatedly?" he teased then continued at her level look and raised eyebrow, "How about I have a friend who needs me?"

She smiled at this, "You'll be in this afternoon?"

He shook his head, "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" she asked breathlessly.

"Definitely tomorrow," he repeated as he nuzzled her neck tasting the soft skin below her jaw.

"Charles," she moaned, closing her eyes briefly before opening them to send the e-mail, "I should probably let William know as well. Let me go for a moment so I can get my phone."

"Can't you just send it from mine?"

"Yes," she scoffed, "If I want it to say 'sent from Charles Carson's IPhone."

He released her and leaned against the wall while she pulled her phone from her purse.

"What is that?"

"It's called an Otterbox. It's for protection."

"It's very red. Speaking of protection, do we…?"

She blushed faintly, "No, that's taken care of. I've been 'protected' for about six months now."

At his questioning look, she continued, "You never know when something might happen."

He smiled, stepping closer to her, "So you've thought 'something' might happen for six months."

"Well, one can hope."

"I suppose one can," he agreed seriously as his hands gripped her blouse, working the buttons loose. He lifted his hand almost experimentally to her breast and slid two fingers under the edge of her bra, tracing the hardened peak gently.

She sighed and her lips parted watching his eyes, "Charles, let me send this e-mail, please."

"I'm not doing anything to stop you," he said bending to mouth her nipple through the green lace of her bra. She moaned again and wrapped her arms around his neck, phone hitting him in the back of the head. While he worked to loosen the fastening on her bra, she tried to type on the phone behind his head. He just had her bra loose and was lifting it out of the way so that he could draw her nipple into his mouth without any troublesome cloth in between when she dropped the phone near the table beside them with a sigh, "Finished."

Placing her hands on his cheeks she drew his lips back to hers.

"What did you say?"

"That something came up," she said trailing the back of her fingers over the fabric straining at his groin, "and he shouldn't expect me until Monday."

"Monday?" he asked in a low groan.

She nodded, "Monday. And he's not to call," she finished grasping his waistband to pull him toward the bedroom.

He followed her eagerly and grasped her hand drawing her back against him, "Elsie, I didn't really expect this. I just wanted to let you know how I felt."

Pulling his arm tight around her, she said, "And now you know how I feel. I've thought about this for a year now. Let's not waste any time."

"Just a year?" he asked nibbling her ear, "I've been thinking of this for eighteen months at least, since you wore that green dress, the one that stretches across here," he said gripping her bottom tightly to pull her against him, "and dips down here," and he bent to kiss the valley between her breasts.

"That's good," she said turning her lips to his, "Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?"

"Let me rectify that," he said shouldering the bedroom door open and pulling her through before pushing her blouse off her shoulders and drawing her bra down her arms to toss in the corner. Bending again to her breast, he felt her arch against him, head falling back. Stretching his arms behind her, he unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. He groaned at the sight of her green knickers and suspenders. "I love that you wear real stockings," he whispered against her breast, slipping the tips of his fingers under the silk.

She pushed him back gently to his confused frustration, "We need to even things up a bit," and began to work on the buttons of his shirt.

Watching her determined efforts with a bemused smile, he asked, "Am I allowed to help?"

"Depends on how fast you want me in that bed."

He began to work on the bottom buttons and met her hands in the middle pulling the cufflinks out in frustration sending them skittering across the floor before tossing his shirt to the corner. He removed his socks and shoes in one smooth motion and straightened, allowing her to unfasten his trousers which he quickly stepped out of as they slid to the floor. He had his hands on her waist to lift her onto the bed when she laughed softly against his chest.

"Elsie, that's not something any man wants to hear at this point," he said pushing her shoulders back so that he could look in her eyes.

"They are tartan. I thought so yesterday," reaching down to feel his boxers, she said, "and flannel!"

"You peeked? I thought I told you to turn around. And yes, they're flannel. It gets a bit nippy in all those cellars."

"They feel so soft," she said admiringly as she ran her hand along the length of him through the fabric.

He groaned and lifted her onto the bed, kneeling between her knees.

He ran his hand from her ankle to her thigh, enjoying the slide of the silk over her skin. He released first one stocking and then the other from her suspenders and smoothed them down her legs and off. He traced the path of his fingers with tiny kisses along the length of her legs. Lifting himself again, he grasped the edge of her knickers and suspenders together and drew them down her legs and off.

Leaning back a little, he studied her carefully, and she blushed under his gaze, "Elsie, why are you blushing? You are beautiful. The most beautiful site I've ever seen."

"Charles, I wish that you could have seen me twenty years ago or even ten. Gravity and time are not always kind."

"Well, that would have required you to cross the border a bit sooner," he said smiling, then continued gently, "Ten years ago, you wouldn't have had these," he bent to kiss the lines beside her eyes, "Because you would have had ten fewer years of smiling. And you wouldn't have had these," he said bending to kiss the small lines below her lip, "because you'd have had ten fewer years of pulling that lip between your teeth. Believe me, Elsie, all of you is very beautiful to me."

Smiling, she put her hands on the back of his neck and held his lips against hers. Moving to lie beside her, he caught her hand and pulled it from the back of his head to hold it against his chest. Turning her hand over so that her palm was against his chest, she smoothed her hand down until she grazed the top of his flannel boxers. Sliding her fingers under the waistband, she lifted them away from him and slid them down his legs, freeing him to lie warm and heavy against her thigh.

He trailed his fingers from the hollow over her collar bone down to her breast, grasping it gently in his hand while he let the pad of his thumb pass back and forth over her nipple. His mouth captured her other breast to mirror the actions of his thumb with his tongue. She writhed in his arms, holding his head tight against her breast while she kissed his temple and then his ear drawing the lobe between her lips.

He moaned against her breast and suckled it harder between his lips. He let his hand trail down her abdomen from her breast to her hip, lifting her leg to lie over his waist. Running his palm over her bottom, his long fingers ghosted across the wet curls at her center. She gasped against his temple and pressed herself closer against him so that he could feel her warm wetness against his abdomen. He groaned in response and pressed his fingers between her folds, straining to reach up to her nub of pleasure. Not quite able to find her center, he pushed her hip away creating enough space between them for his hand and quickly found his goal, rubbing it gently between thumb and forefinger. She moaned his name, and he finally released her breast from his lips to look up at her with a smile, before slipping his forefinger between her folds to stroke her while he left his thumb pressed against her nub.

Her hips bucked against his hand, and she moaned his name again, trembling through her release. He caught her lips and her next moan in an open mouthed kiss. Her senses returning slowly, she registered the hardness against her thigh that was already slightly moist. Shifting her leg so that he could lie between her thighs poised just on the point of entry, she smiled to hear his low moan of pleasure. He pushed against her warmth, and she shifted her legs a little wider to grant him entry.

He slid into her with one long motion and held himself still on trembling arms as she caught his mouth in another kiss. Slowly, he began to shift his hips, gradually increasing the length of his strokes until she thought he was going to withdraw completely before plunging back into her depths. She moaned his name again as she felt his thrusts grow shorter and more erratic. He cried out wordlessly against her cheek, and his movements stilled, but he continued to hold himself above her on his forearms and kissed her, tasting her lips repeatedly.

He shifted so that he could lie by her side and pulled her to his chest where she lay purring in pleasure. With his hand on her upper back, he caressed her shoulder blade with his thumb while he caught his breath, "I counted three times, but I was a bit distracted so I might have missed one or two."

She raised her head off his chest to look at him in confusion, "Three what?"

"Three times that you moaned my name," he teased, "I told you I planned on making you moan my name repeatedly."

She swatted his chest lightly, "I heard a few deeper moans in here as well."

"You certainly did," he agreed through a yawn, "This is much better than just breakfast."

She smiled and kissed his chest to sooth the swat, "Charles, you dear, sweet man. I love you dearly."

He hummed in agreement before dosing off to sleep.

_**Reviews are welcome.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**The end of the modern AU songfic. Thank you for reading thus far and hopefully you'll enjoy the fluffy end.**_

Charles woke surrounded by the scent of Elsie but stretched his arm out to find an empty bed beside him. Frowning, he wondered if he had just dreamed their encounter. It wouldn't be the first time he'd dreamed of having her in his bed. With his eyes still closed, he took mental stock and realized that he was devoid of clothes and the backs of his legs were a little sore. These sensations combined with the fact that the pillow beside him definitely smelled like Elsie convinced him that this was not a dream. He opened his eyes wondering where she might be. There was no water running in the lavatory and a glance at the armchair in the corner revealed her skirt with a dark green bra on top. She certainly wouldn't have gone out without at least one of those items of clothing. Where could she be?

His question was answered when she backed into the room carrying a tray. He smiled at the sight of her new periwinkle dress formerly known as his periwinkle shirt. As she turned toward the bed, he was pleased to see a smile in her eyes as well, "I was hungry, so I thought I'd bring you breakfast in bed."

"That sounds wonderful, but I thought I was supposed to cook breakfast for you as payment for the help with my phone."

She smirked as she waited for him to prop himself against the headboard before setting the tray down on the bed, "I think that I could be persuaded to accept services already rendered as payment."

"That's good," he smiled lifting the sheet so that she could slip in beside him, "Did you already eat or is this to share?"

"To share of course. You couldn't put all this food away on your own, could you?"

"There's only toast and fruit here. I've been very busy this morning. I need to keep my strength up to keep 'paying'."

"Well, if you want more, I could go…" she started to rise.

"No, no," he said with his hand on her arm, "Stay here. We'll get up later to have something more substantial."

She took her cup of tea and leaned back beside him.

He spread blackberry jam on two pieces of toast and held one out to her before taking a sip of his coffee, "It still amazes me that someone who thinks this is the devil's brew can make a perfect cup. You even know exactly how much cream to put in it."

"Well, I have been doing this for a few years," she smiled.

He looked at her from the corner of his eye for a moment before clearing his throat, "Elsie, did you mean what you said about thinking that I've already been courting you?"

She sat her tea down so that she could address him properly, "Charles, do you remember when I got the Crawley account?"

"Yes, you came to my office and told me about it. I believe we celebrated with a bottle of Merlot."

"From the moment that I realized that I had won the account, all I could think of was telling you, even before I was off the phone with Isobel. Surely that means something."

He chuckled, "I suppose it does. And of course, as soon as I'm invited to one of these business parties, the only person I think of inviting is you. Plus, I could have quite cheerfully strangled your 'old friend' yesterday."

"Then, dear, sweet man, I believe that we are courting," she said kissing the corner of his mouth. He grasped her hand in his and brushed his lips across her knuckles.

Between them, they finished off the large plates of toast and fruit, and he rose to take the tray back to the kitchen. He returned with his new phone in hand and stretched out over the foot of the bed, "This thing was making odd noises. I think I may have been texted."

"Your other woman?" she teased.

He smiled, "So you're my woman now, are you?"

"I believe that that's already been established. Now, what other woman is texting my man?

"Elsie!" he admonished with a frown, "How many women have you seen me with these past five years?"

That question brought her up short. She couldn't recall Charles having been with any other women since she'd known him. "Charles, when was the last time you went on a date?"

He paused in punching in his code to unlock his phone, "Well, since you pointed out that we've apparently been dating without my knowledge, it would be Saturday afternoon when we saw that matinee."

She rolled her eyes at him, "I meant besides me."

He paused again and blew out his cheeks as he tried to remember.

She laughed, "Never mind, if it's been that long, it doesn't matter."

He returned to unlocking his phone and then his eyes widened, "I have ten e-mails. I thought I cleared these out before you came over. Three are from Anna, two from John, and one from William. Why would he send me anything?"

She leaned over his shoulder while he opened the e-mails, "Anna is letting me know that my schedule is cleared for today. The second one says it is cleared until Monday. The third one says that she won't need us to babysit Saturday night, but could we please keep the twins on Sunday afternoon. What on earth did you say in that e-mail?" He handed the phone to her in astonishment.

"John wants to know if he should bring over champagne, and the second says not to worry about Sunday afternoon, they'll just see us on Monday," then she laughed out loud, "Well, Charles Carson, this is what comes from distracting me. My original e-mail to Anna says 'Mr. Carlson is busy doing a friend who needs him and will be in tomorrow.'"

"For heaven's sake Elsie!" he laughed, "I stopped referring to myself in the third person years ago, and I should think I know how to spell my own name."

"You were nibbling my neck at the time," she said dryly, "It was a little difficult to see."

Exasperated, he took the phone from her, "William's says that I should be careful how I treat you, or he'll have to thrash me. Cheeky assistant you have there."

"And your text message?"

"Oh, that's the one with the little speech balloon, isn't it? It's from John. Says 'knocked-no answer, check door."

He rose and pulled on his boxers. Taking the phone from her he walked to the front door and came back a few minutes later with a bottle of champagne, "He apparently took it upon himself to bring over the best we have. Let me put it on ice, and I'll be right back."

When he returned, he was treated to a tantalizing view of Elsie bent over to gather clothes from the floor. Her dress/shirt slid up to reveal a nice stretch of thigh, and he stood mute in the doorway for a moment before speaking in a strangled voice, "Elsie, what are you doing?"

She spoke to him over her shoulder, "You know the untidiness would drive me to distraction. Are you going to help or just stand there?"

Lost in the fantasy of hearing her ask a completely different question while in that position, he forgot to answer except for the low groan that escaped his lips. She straightened and turned to him.

Shaking his head to let the fantasy dissipate, he said, "We should probably get these clothes tidied so they don't distract you."

She shook her head at him in amusement, "That sounds like a good idea."

She found his shirt in the corner and hung it in the wardrobe while he plucked her blouse from the top of the wardrobe and hung it carefully beside his shirt. Once he'd carefully hung her skirt beside his trousers he said, "Now, there's another item of my clothing that needs to be taken care of as well."

"Oh, yes, let me go find your waistcoat and tie," she said as she started toward the door.

Catching her arm, he said, "I'm referring to a certain shirt that you've nicked."

"I thought it probably looked much better on me than it did on you," she teased.

"It certainly does," he agreed seriously, "but it would look even better off you."

Putting her feet on his and holding on to his shoulders, she pulled herself up to give him a hungry, demanding kiss. He grasped her bottom to pull her even closer, and his eyes widened with the realization that she was wearing only his shirt.

Pulling her against him, he maneuvered them back to the bed where he quickly laid her back against the sheets. Lying beside her, they kissed unhurriedly, exploring each other's mouths with lips and tongues.

She pulled back after a moment to whisper against his cheek, "Did you really read the whole manual for your IPhone?"

"Of course," he replied between quick kisses on her lips, "I want to learn as much as possible about everything I own so that I can take care of it properly. I always read the manual."

"I don't come with a manual. How are you going to take care of me properly?"

"Elsie, dear woman, no one could ever own you, and I most certainly would never want to try," he said, "I will simply have to learn how to 'take care of you' with careful exploration and experimentation."

"Exploration?"

"Every inch," he nodded seriously before beginning on the buttons of the periwinkle shirt.

_**Now I will leave the 21st century and head cheerfully back to the 20th century to finish 'Childish Pranks'**__**. Reviews are always welcome. **_


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